


Together They Stand

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Episode Related, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-28
Updated: 1999-12-28
Packaged: 2018-11-10 07:38:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	Together They Stand

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Due South: Property of Alliance

Due South: Property of Alliance

Time Line: One year after the 'Eclipse'

Rated: pg some strong language

Violence H/C

Pairings; None

Winthru@kconline.com

TOGETHER THEY STAND

By Winston

 

His life had been hell for over a year. But right now Mr. Brandauer was a happy man. He had a plan, and he loved it 'when a plan came together'. Brandauer was finally going to get his revenge on Lt. Harding Welsh, and it felt good. It had been over a year since his last run-in with Welsh. It had cost him his career and his health, but now he had a plan. 

His trouble had all started after the Siracusa case. He thought he had a dirty cop in Welsh's district. He had gone in with blood in his eye and it backfired. Siracusa couldn't pick Vecchio out of the line-up and the case had fallen apart around his ears. His desire to get Welsh was so evident that even Det. Hallet of Internal Affairs had submitted a scathing report on Brandauer's conduct of the investigation. Add that to all of the individual complaints turned in by the members of Welsh's unit, and the result was inevitable. He had lost his job in the State Attorney's office. At that moment Brandauer had made the decision that if the opportunity ever came he would make Harding Welsh pay. 

It was six months later that he had a change of heart. It happened after he got the news about his brother. Roger had been killed in prison. He was stabbed by another prisoner in an argument over cigarettes. Harding Welsh had put his brother in prison and now his brother was dead. Brandauer didn't blame the other prisoner, he blamed Harding Welsh. He was no longer willing to wait for an opportunity. He was going to create one. 

The icing on the cake was Det. Ray Vecchio. The skinny cop with scared hair, and that damn smirk. Brandauer had seen the smirk on Vecchio's face when Siracusa had failed to pick him from the line-up. Det. Ray Vecchio was a smart-ass son-of-a-bitch, and now he was going to pay as well. He now had a plan. It was so sweet. And it had been so easy. 

He had seen her on TV talking about 'Women in Law Enforcement'. She was the new Civilian Aid, and Vecchio's sister. She hadn't started her new position until sometime after the Siracusa investigation. He had 'unexpectedly' met her at her favorite coffee shop and when he fed her the line about being interested in writing a story on her she had been more than willing to give him the information he wanted.

He needed a way to get to Welsh. A way to make him suffer as he had suffered. Brandauer had learned that there was no great love between Welsh and his family, and dealing with family could get too messy. He needed another angle and Ms.Vecchio gave it to him. If it wouldn't have been a day when Frannie was particularly put out with her boss she might have put herself in danger. Her tone though made it perfectly clear to Brandauer that she was not an option. No. According to Ms. Vecchio the only one that Welsh really seemed to like was her brother Ray; and probably because he could be as big a 'jerk' as Welsh himself.

Brandauer even had the opportunity to witness the obvious friendship first hand. He wasn't a stranger to police procedure. He had monitored a few calls and was rewarded with observing Welsh and Vecchio in the field. Their easy camaraderie was clearly evident. 

To top it off Vecchio would be an easy target. He had no official partner, he lived alone and wasn't prone to spending a lot of time with his family. Sure there was the Mountie, but from what he had been able to pick-up from the rumor mill the two were like oil and water. Brandauer would use Vecchio to get to Welsh. Brandauer wanted Welsh to suffer before he killed him. 

 

 

It had been a busy week and he was tired, but Stanley Raymond Kowalski a.k.a. Det. Ray Vecchio was in a good mood. He and Fraser both had the weekend off. They were going to catch the Cub's home opener. Oh Ya. Take me out to the Ole ball game. It was going to be great. Fraser still needed to learn the finer points of being a 'Die Hard Cub Fan', and Ray was looking forward to being the one to contribute to the Mounties continuing education. The weatherman said it was going to be a beautiful day, and there was no other field in the league like Wrigley. Brick walls, ivy, bleacher bums, and beer. Who could ask for more? So what if they didn't serve bark tea, Fraser was going to love it.

It was almost 9pm and Ray had just dropped the Mountie off at the Consulate. One quick stop at the Mini-Mart to pick-up some coffee for the morning, then it was home for a hot shower and bed. 

As Ray left the checkout counter a blue van pulled into the space beside his GTO. The driver was just coming around the front of his vehicle as Ray passed. He was a big man. With a smile and a nod towards Ray he headed into the store. Ray had his key in the GTO's door lock when he heard the man call his name. The stranger had returned to the edge of the sidewalk and was looking expectantly at the Detective, a warm smile still clearly visible even in the half-light from the storefront. As Ray turned his attention to the man on the sidewalk he heard the crunch of gravel behind him. He instantly dropped the coffee, reached for his gun and spun around to face his attacker. What greeted him was a hard elbow to the face. The blow to his nose and mouth brought an instant display of stars, but it was his head bouncing off the side of the van that brought the darkness. Ray's last conscious thought was that he would be damned if he would miss the game because of a broken nose.

 

 

The Stahley brothers were your normal Chicago hard types. They had been raised by a man who knew nothing but trouble, and they were carrying on the family tradition. Joe and Max Stahley could have been twins. They both stood 6'5"weighed in around 230 lbs. dark hair and blue eyes. Brandauer's bad boy bookends. They had agreed to help Mr. Brandauer for a rather small amount of cash. It didn't hurt that Brandauer was also going to forget the huge defense fee that they had racked up to get their 'dear ole dad' out of another one of his scrapes with the law. Add in the fact that they had no love for cops and the job was down right inviting.

Max and Joe were well versed in their trade. In a matter of seconds they had the much smaller, and now unconscious Detective shoved into the side door of the van. Once Ray was inside the two brothers went to work. They did a thorough body search. They removed Ray's holster, boot gun, knife, cuffs, and even his bulletproof vest. Removing the vest wasn't easy. They jerked the flannel shirt that Ray had borrowed from Fraser roughly over his head. After removing the bloodied tee shirt and vest they again jerked the flannel shirt back on the prone figure. Max then put the clothing in a small garbage bag along with the confiscated weapons. Joe rolled Ray over onto his side, pulled his hands behind his back, and used the cuffs to secure them.

Ray's broken nose was bleeding freely inside and out. When the unconscious man began to choke on his own blood Joe quickly turned Ray over onto his stomach. He placed an old towel under his head, and gave him a couple of sharp whacks on the back. Once he was sure that the choking had stopped and that Ray's breathing had returned to normal, he joined his brother outside the van.

The two men lounged against the side of the van as if nothing out of the way had happened. They each lit a cigarette, talking casually about nothing in particular. After almost five minutes Joe reached down picked up Ray's keys and the bag containing the coffee. The two men then shook hands and left. Max drove the van. Joe drove the GTO.

 

 

Ray could taste blood. It was really difficult to breathe. Something here just wasn't right. As consciousness slowly returned he tried desperately to put all the pieces together. He remembered stopping at the Mini-Mart for coffee. He remembered that he wasn't going to let a broken nose keep him from attending that ball game........Broken Nose! 

Ray tried to pull himself up into a sitting position. His head hurt so bad that just that simple motion alone had him seeing stars again. This was not good. He couldn't get any air through his swollen nose. Even with his best effort he couldn't stop the low groan that escaped his busted lips. Suddenly someone was there beside him.

"Fraser?"

"Fat chance ass-hole" It was Joe Stahley. Max had picked him up at Ray's apartment where they had parked the GTO. 

"Your skinny little ass is mine boy." As he spoke Joe shoved Ray back down on his stomach. He grabbed a handful of hair and roughly pulled the Detective's head back. "Just call me jailer Joe...cause from here on you're my responsibility. I'm the one that is going to keep you in line."

An ugly laugh rattled up from the big mans throat. "The only requirement is that I keep you alive. I figure that leaves me a lot of leeway, so you just better be a good boy." Joe then slammed Ray's face back down into the blood soaked towel.

Whoa! The light show was on again. Ray could feel the blackness moving in and fought against it. He could feel the blood start trickling down the inside of his nose, and somehow focusing on that helped him to maintain awareness, but just barely.

It took Ray a few minutes to regain his voice. 

"Just what is it you want jailer Joe?...."

As he spoke Ray craned his head around so he could see Joe's face, put on his most devilish grin and even winked at the bigger man. 

"Hey is that anything like Sailor Joe ...'cause I got an uncle that used to be a merchant marine, and he was a big dumb guy too,... so maybe you might know him..." 

There was just something about Kowalski's personality that refused to admit that there were times when it was best to keep his mouth shut. Welsh and Fraser had both pointed this out to him several times, but he just couldn't help himself. 

Surprisingly this time it didn't get him into more trouble. Joe rocked back on his heels, leaned against the other side of the van and smiled broadly. He could appreciate the guy's courage, no matter how misguided.

"Oh don't worry funny guy. We 'got' what we want." As he spoke he pointed at Ray, and gave him a wink of his own. "You my little friend are the bait we need for the big fish my boss is after."

Ray thought about this for a bit, but came up empty. "I don't know of any big fish that would have any use for me...ya know I ain't the most endearing character when it comes to big fish anyway ....in fact as a general rule most of 'em would pay ya to throw me back....Me and big fish?... Just don't jive if you know what I mean." He knew he was starting to blither, but the guy was still smiling so maybe he could buy some time. 

"It's easy little fella. My boss wants your boss. Lt. Harding Welsh." 

Ray felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. It was bad enough to get beaten up and used like a pawn, but to be used against Welsh really sucked. Over the last year Ray had come to really like the big gruff man who was his boss. They gave each other a lot of grief, but most of it was in good fun. The Lt. had shown his faith in Ray many times. Hell he had even come right out and said that he was a damn good cop. Because of Welsh and Fraser, Ray had even started to believe it, a little bit anyway. 

Ray dropped his head back down on the towel and groaned loudly. He didn't want Ole jailer Joe to know how he really felt about the situation. "Oh man Joe. We are in deep shit here. I'm too young to die ya know...hell I ain't even got any kids yet...Of course I ain't got a wife either...so I may need a little more time then most...for kids I mean...."

Ray moved his head enough to look at the big man as he continued. "Welsh is one of those guys that would probably pay ya to throw me back. I think you guys got ahold of some bum information here. Hell Welsh will live to be ahundred...healthy lungs ya know....he yells at me constantly...he even threatened to shot me once....of course that was the day he found out I'd been abducted by aliens...so I guess he was more upset than normal....which can be pretty upset...."

"Joe! Will you shut that son-of-a bitch up! Jeeze!," That was the first Ray even bothered to consider that there had to be someone driving the van. "Don't be treatin' that luckless shit like a pet dog or somethin'. You know as well as I do that he ain't comin' out of this deal alive. He lives? We die. Simple. You get too damn upset when you lose a pet. Remember Taffy? Shit! You weren't fit to live with for a month."

Ray watched the hurt expression cross Joe's face. Oh ya. Maybe the guy would take pity on him and help him get away.

"Gee Max. Taffy was a good dog. I really hated shootin' him that way. He just really pissed me off." 

Ray slowly lowered his head. So much for that idea.

 

Before another intelligent conversation could get started Max began to slow the van. He made a hard right, and after what Ray guessed to be about a quarter of a mile, came to a stop. 

"Get your little friend up, Joe. We're here."

By the time Joe had helped Ray to his knees, Max had the side door of the van open. Max took Ray's arm and helped him step down. Joe stepped down just in time to grab his other arm and help the sagging Detective right himself. The sudden altitude had made Ray really dizzy. His head felt like it was going to bust wide open. He was starting to think he was going to lose his supper, but then remembered he hadn't had any yet.

Ray took a quick look around. They were at a dock. Funny. He could usually smell the Lake called Michigan when this close to it. Well Duh! And he called himself a Detective. He hadn't been able to get anything through this mashed nose yet...a little atmosphere would be nice.... 

"Ah. Detective Vecchio. So nice of you to join us."

Ray instantly recognized the voice of Ex-State's Attorney Brandauer.

Joe couldn't keep from smiling when he felt Ray give himself a shake, square his shoulders and pull himself up as tall as cuffed hands behind the back would allow. This was going to be fun to watch.

"Well I'll be dog gone if it ain't old 'I screwed up really bad and lost my cush job Brandauer'" Ray could feel some fresh blood drip into the back of his throat. He cocked his head sideways and spit. "We musta really pissed you off..huh big guy ?"

Even in the bad light from a distant light pole Ray could see the big man bristle.

"To death. Vecchio, to death. Your death, and that of your overstuffed boss." Brandauer moved over to face Ray. "But first I want both of you to feel what it's like to suffer." 

With every word Brandauer jammed his finger into Ray's chest. "Luckily for you Detective, your suffering will be just physical. Welsh's will be much more involved. He will get to watch someone he cares for die. Very slowly I might add."

"Just what is your problem pudgy? You puttin' to much sugar on your cornflakes again?" Ray's eyes burned with pure rage. "Welsh would probably give you the bullet to do me. You guys really got yourselves screwed up with some bad information."

"Your devotion is admiral Vecchio. But you can cut the bullshit. I know. You know. And Welsh will really come to know, just what your friendship means to both of you." 

Brandauer leaned in even closer as he continued, "He is going to watch you suffer. Just like I watched my brother suffer. Oh, you are both going to die, but he is going to watch you suffer, and then watch you die. Right in front of his eyes. By that time you will have come to realize that it is only because of you that he even showed up. All he has to do is stay away. But we both know he won't. What's his favorite line? 'I stand by my Detectives'." 

Before Brandauer could continue Ray reacted in the only way he could think of at the time, the good ole Chicago head butt. The move was so quick that Max and Joe had no time to stop it. Joe grabbed Ray's arms, jerked him backward, and held him tightly against his broad chest. Max stepped over to the stunned Brandauer and helped him to his feet. 

"Get that son-of-a-bitch into the boat!"

Joe roughly shoved Ray toward the boat. "You crazy little shit. You really got him good." He spoke quietly enough that Ray was the only one who heard. Ray just looked at him sideways and gave him another wink. The truth was that if Joe didn't have a hold of him he wouldn't be able to walk. His head was really spinning now. But it had been worth it.

When they reached the steps that led down to the cabin Brandauer shouldered Joe out of the way, put his foot up against Ray's butt and shoved him hard. With his arms behind him there was no way to break the fall. When Joe got to his side the Detective was unconscious again.

"Put him in that forward compartment and chain him up. I'll teach that smart-ass to mess with me." Brandauer was so angry that his face was the color of Fraser's dress reds.

He followed Joe and Max as they picked up the limp officer and carried him forward. The compartment was just a small storage area in the bow of the boat. Max unfastened the cuffs long enough to loop them around a brace. When the unconscious man was secured Max and Joe stepped back out of the way.

Brandauer was white hot with rage. The kind of rage that only a truly frustrated man could muster. At that moment Ray represented everything in life that had put Brandauer where he was today. 

Ray was lying on his right side. The brace around which the cuffs were secured was high enough on the wall that Ray's unprotected ribcage was suspended above the floor. Brandauer stepped towards Ray and kicked with all his might. The first kick flipped Ray over onto his stomach exposing his left side to Brandauer's anger. He kicked the unconscious man again..and again...and again... 

Joe took a step towards Brandauer. Max grabbed his arm. He spun his brother around and pushed him out the compartment door. 

"It's his business Joe. We just stay out of the way. Got me?"

Joe dropped his head, but said nothing. As the two men climbed the ladder Joe could still hear the dull thuds coming from the compartment. The brothers returned to the van.

 

When Brandauer joined the men at the van his face was pale and covered with a sickly sheen of sweat. His breathing was labored. The Stahley's were aware of Brandauer's heart condition. Max stepped forward and took the big man by the elbow.

"You ok boss?"

Brandauer shook loose of the offered support and hastily straightened his suit coat.

"I'm fine. You guys just concentrate on your jobs."

The big man seemed ashamed of what had just happened. The Stahley's both guessed, and correctly, that it was more from loosing his composer, then from what he had done to his defenseless victim.

"Joe you stay here. Have the boat ready to go by 11:00 am. And you keep that son-of-a-bitch alive. I still need him. Max and I will take care of the rest." Brandauer jerked his head at Max and the two were off.

Joe was rather amused at himself, but he was glad that he was the one who got to stay with the boat, and the detective. He kind of liked the little shit. The least he could do was try and make what time the poor slob had left as good as it could be, under the circumstances. 

When Joe entered the forward compartment he shook his head sadly. Ray was hanging limp in the handcuffs. His head was dangling between his outstretched arms. There was fresh blood on the floor under his head. His wrists were bleeding from the chaffing of the cuffs. Joe released Ray's hands and with surprising gentleness lowered him over onto his back. The blood on his nose appeared to be fresh, but the bleeding had stopped. There was a fresh scrape down the right side of his face, probably from the fall down the stairs. Ray's breathing was labored. Joe knew instantly that there had been some real damage done. He carefully unbuttoned the flannel shirt and opened it. A huge ugly bruise was already forming along the whole length of the smaller man's left side. Another smaller bruise could be seen on the right side. A heavy scrape ran along the right ribcage, and disappeared under the waistline of Ray's jeans. Joe unfastened the jeans and pulled them down far enough to reveal another heavy bruise forming at Ray's hipbone. Geeze this guy was going to be really sore. A frown crossed Joe's face when he realized that in just a few days it wasn't going to matter.

Joe left the compartment and came back with a wet towel and the first-aid kit. He gingerly cleaned all the blood from Ray's face. He even put a band-aid across the small cut on the bridge of his nose. Joe then cleaned the many scrapes and applied an antiseptic cream. He wrapped Ray's chaffed wrists with gauze and tape. Joe knew that what time Ray had left would be spent in handcuffs. He might as well try to make it more comfortable for him. Unfortunately there was nothing Joe could do for what he realized was the most severe injury. He knew that at the very least Ray had several broken ribs, and judging from the labored breathing, they were very badly broken. 

Joe found an old deck chair cushion and wedged it against the wall. As carefully as possible he pulled Ray to a position that elevated his upper body. Joe had broken ribs more than once in his checkered career. He knew that this would ease his breathing. He almost wished now that he hadn't broken Ray's nose. He needed all the air he could get.

Joe had barely gotten Ray settled when he began to show the first signs of returning cognizance. Ray made a feeble attempt to pull himself up into a sitting position. The effort brought a sharp gasp. He sank back against the cushion, dropping his left shoulder and tucking his arm tightly against his battered ribs. 

"You back among the living, ya crazy little pit-bull?" Joe reached down and cupped Ray's jaw in his big hand. He raised Ray's head up so that they could make eye contact.

"You sure know how to push Brandauer's buttons don't ya, little guy?"

Ray had to fight to get his eyes to focus on the face before him. The pain in his side was incredible. It made the pounding in his head seem almost pleasant. Every breath was an effort that ended in a pain-filled grunt. As full consciousness returned, Ray struggled to get his body under control. He fought down the panic that was starting to rise inside. He felt like he was going to suffocate. He couldn't take in enough air, and it was really scary. It was a bull-headed determination to not let this goon see him freak that allowed him to regain control.

"Huh?" There he had gotten something out. Phew! It wasn't much, and it hurt like hell, but it was something to let the guy know he was still in the game.

"I said; you really know how to push Brandauer's buttons don't ya? You had him really mad."

"Must not... been mad... enough though." About two words a breath was all Ray could manage. He had to concentrate on relaxing the screaming muscles around his ribcage. He could do this!

A puzzled look crossed Joe's face. Then he understood.

"You wanted him to kill ya! That's it ain't it? You crazy son-of-a-bitch!" Joe rocked back on his heels and stared at Ray in amazement.

"I don't know if ...'want' is the best word...for it...But it sure woulda screwed up....fat boys plans some. And hey ... I ain't nothin' if not....willin' to do that." Ray's breathing was getting more relaxed as he realized he was getting enough air to function. He wasn't going to suffocate after all. Not yet anyway.

"You would do that for this Welsh fella? Hell I thought he was just your boss?" Joe studied Ray carefully. He wanted to understand what made this guy tick. 

"Would you do it for Max?" Ray looked back at Joe, his gaze, pain-filled, but steady and sure.

"Well...Ya...But Max is my brother."

"'Nuff said then huh?"

Ray made another attempt at setting up. Bad idea. Sweet Jesus. He was really in trouble here. The pain was so intense that he had to shut his eyes and bite his lip to keep from a full-blown scream. That's when the shakes started. Ray tried his best to stop them, but he wasn't going to succeed. Shit this was embarrassing.

Joe read the look on Ray's face and smiled.

"Don't worry about it tuff guy. Ya had kind of a rough day today, and it is gettin' chilly. I'll get ya somethin' to keep ya warm." 

It was still early spring and the nights could get pretty chilly, especially on the lake. Joe left the compartment to return with a large green army issue coat. He couldn't keep from laughing when he saw that Ray had struggled up onto his feet and was leaning heavily against the wall. His eyes were pain-glazed and he was very near passing out. Joe helped the smaller man into the coat. He then gently scooped Ray's legs out from under him and settled him back down onto the cushion. He put Ray's right hand in the cuff and found a place to secure the other end. He knew Ray's left arm was going to be needed to support his ribs. 

Ray fought to maintain some awareness, but he was suddenly very tired. His side felt like it was on fire. Most of the gains he had made at controlling his breathing had been lost by trying to get up. He focused his mind on getting his twitching muscles to relax. As he began to succeed the darkness overtook him again and he slipped into its peaceful release.

Joe pulled the collar of the big coat up around Ray's neck. As he left the compartment Joe looked back over his shoulder at the still form, and shook his head sadly. This job wasn't going to be easy. This guy might be a cop, but he was worth a hundred Brandauers.

 

 

Welsh got the call at midnight. There was nothing he hated worse. Calls at midnight usually meant trouble. It would only be later that he would fully realized just how much trouble this call would be. 

"Are you awake Harding?" Brandauer's voice was instantly recognizable. Welsh knew immediately that this was not going to make him a happy man.

"Ya Brandauer. What the hell da you want?"

"It's not what I want Harding. It's what 'you' want that counts." Brandauer was getting immense pleasure from this, and it could be heard in his voice. "Do you want to see your little friend Vecchio again.?"

Welsh was instantly tensed. A sick feeling was starting to form in the pit of his stomach. No one knew better than he did just how crazy Brandauer was. They had history to prove it.

"Talk Brandauer. Now!"

"Patience Harding. We will have plenty of time to talk later. Tonight all you need to know is that I have Vecchio. You meet me at his apartment at 9:00 am tomorrow morning. You talk to no one. If you do he dies." Brandauer gave a short laugh as he continued. "Oh. And please remember that I still have contacts in the department. If there is so much as a ripple about what is going on I will hear about it. You don't want that to happen, I assure you."

"Brandauer! You son-of-a-bitch! If anything has happened to Vecchio you will be eternally sorry." 

Welsh's anger was burning red hot. He hated to admit it, but Ray had become someone for whom he cared for very much. Hell he wasn't even sure why. Ray was one of the most off-the-wall characters that he had ever met. Constant nervous motion and a mouth to match. The original Kinetic Kowboy. Welsh had always looked forward to the day when he would be able to use that nickname on Kowalski. He was just hoping that day would still come. 

"Relax Harding. I need him alive. It's you that I want. He's just the little worm dangling on a very sharp hook." Brandauer's pleasure had only been heightened by Welsh's show of anger. "Oh and Harding my friend. There is something that you should really know about this whole situation. You and Vecchio are going to die and I have nothing to lose. You see Welsh; I'm dying too. The Doctors have only given me a year to live. Bad heart. Oh but don't mourn Harding. I don't mind spending my remaining year outside of the country if it means watching you two die. Just remember Vecchio's apartment, 9:00am. And Harding, you are being watched so be very careful. A mans life is at stake you know. " 

With that the line went dead. In the darkness of his tiny apartment Welsh stood and held the receiver for a very long time. There would be no sleep for the big man tonight. 

 

Welsh arrived at Ray's apartment well ahead of the 9:00 meet. He noticed that Ray's GTO was parked out front. The doors of the car were locked. Welsh could see nothing out of place. He did notice Ray's cell phone plugged into the cigarette lighter. He made a mental note. That phone could come in handy.

Welsh had not been able to detect any sign of being followed. But he had told no one. He knew that this was not procedure. But it was Ray's life in the balance, and he wasn't willing to risk that. Hell. Ray never followed procedure anyway. He would understand. That thought brought a small smile to Welsh's tired features, the first one since last night.

Welsh let himself into the apartment. He had to take a deep breath to steel himself against what he might find. He made a quick tour of all the rooms. There was no sign of a struggle. They must have grabbed Ray in the parking lot.

It was then that the sadness set in. This apartment had Ray Kowalski written all over it. The dirty dishes in the sink. An old pizza box shoved in behind the wastebasket. A bicycle hanging on the wall. A picture of Ray and Stella in happier times. A music system to rival any. And a turtle. 

Why Ray? Ray didn't deserve this. Brandauer was his problem. Why hadn't Brandauer come after him?.....Hell I guess he did..... Welsh hadn't realized how long he was lost in thought until he heard someone knock.

 

When Welsh opened the door and saw the smirk on Brandauer's face his sadness turned to a cold hard rage. He desperately fought the desire to drag the man into the apartment and dismember him. If it weren't for Ray....

"Are you going to invite me in Harding, or must I stand out here in the hall?"

Welsh reluctantly stepped back allowing the man into Ray's kitchen. Harding knew himself well enough not to answer. He was afraid that if he got started on this guy he might not be able to stop. He would just let the guy say what he had to say. He knew Brandauer would push him just for a reaction. It was best to play it cool.

Brandauer produced a small garbage bag from behind his back. He stepped over to the kitchen table and dumped the contents. The expression on his face spoke of just how pleased he was with himself. Welsh took a quick glance at the scattered contents of the bag and successfully refused to show any reaction. 

Inside Welsh was screaming. He had immediately recognized Ray's shoulder holster his badge still attached. His boot gun, knife, and vest were also there. The one thing that Harding had to force himself not to stare at was Ray's bloodied tee shirt. His fingers itched to throttle the smug face before him. 

Welsh's lack of expression had an immediate affect on the other man. Brandauer was suddenly very angry.

"So Harding. Do you believe me now? If you want to see your young friend again you will do exactly as I say. Do you understand that?"

Welsh stepped over and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest. He still refused to show any emotion. He still refused to speak. 

Brandauer's anger increased.

"You are going to pay Welsh. Pay for what you did to me, and what you did to my brother." As he spook Brandauer's face began to flush. His frustration was evident. 

Still Welsh said nothing.

"This is exactly what I want you to do. If you do anything but what I say your friend will die. Quite slowly and with as much pain as can be dispense. If you attempt to have me arrested I will not resist, but the result will be the same. My associates will see to that. Do you understand?"

Welsh steadily returned Brandauer's stare. Again he said nothing. He simply nodded his head. Yes.

Brandauer took the next several minutes to instruct Welsh on his part in the plan. The plan that he had so carefully constructed over the last several months. A plan that he had no doubt would result in the death of the two friends. 

Welsh listened carefully. He had to constantly fight down the urge to really hurt this son-of-a-bitch. It would do no good right now. But later....well...He was going to enjoy the feel of his hands around this man's throat....Nobody messed with his Detectives...or his friends. And Ray was both.

When Brandauer had completed his instructions he made his way to the door. The smirk was back on his fleshy face. He paused as he reached for the doorknob and stuffed his hand in his jacket pocket.

"Oh. One more thing Harding my friend." He pulled Ray's keys from his pocket and tossed them to Welsh. "You will be driving the Detective's car. It is very easily noticed. There is however one key missing. The handcuffs are in use right now. If you know what I mean. And remember Harding; 'you stand by your Detectives'"

With a rather evil laugh the big man was out the door.

 

 

Welsh stared at the closed apartment door for what seemed like an eternity. The emotions that he had so tightly bottled up in the presence of that scum bag suddenly boiling to the surface. With a near animalistic cry he spun and punched a large hole in the nearest wall. Shit. He was getting more like Ray every day. He really needed a drink.

Welsh had just poured himself a small shot of Scotch from Ray's cupboard when he heard a light knock on the door. His first thought was that it was Brandauer. His blood started to boil. Before he reached the door the knock came again, this time followed by a familiar voice.

"Ray?...Ray?..It's me Fraser." 

Welsh stepped to the door and pulled it open. He grabbed Fraser by the arm and not to gently pulled him into the apartment. He allowed only enough time for the wolf to follow then quickly shut the door.

"Constable. Did anyone see you come in here?" The concern on Harding's face was evident.

"Sir. If you are referring to Mr. Brandauer, no sir he didn't. I was helping Ray's landlady carry in some groceries and was successfully able to hide my face behind the bag that I was holding."

Welsh's relief was obvious.

"Good. That's good Constable. We have a real problem here Fraser. A real bad problem. That no good sleaze has Ray....I got to tell ya Constable I'm so mad right now I could spit.!"

That much was clear to be seen.. Fraser could never remember seeing Welsh so upset. He was almost at the point of tears. It was obvious that he hadn't slept. Right now it looked like he had aged years just overnight. Fraser also noticed the fresh hole in the wall. He suddenly felt a cold fear start to grow deep in his gut. 

Fraser gently took hold of Welsh's arm. He could feel the big man 's muscles trembling. Whether from rage or fear he couldn't tell. He was suddenly afraid that it might be both. If Welsh was this concerned it must be a very bad situation.

"Please Sir. If you could just tell me what is going on."

Welsh rubbed his face with his big hands. He took in a very deep breath, then let it out slowly. Fraser knew that the big man was fighting to get himself under control. 

"Over on the table Constable."

Fraser followed his nod and stepped over towards the kitchen table. His heart froze. Fraser slowly picked up each piece of Ray's equipment. He held each for a moment before laying it aside and picking up the next. It was almost like he was trying to reach out to his absent partner. As if handling these objects would somehow make him feel closer to Ray. He picked up the bloody tee shirt last. He held it for a very long time.

Welsh stepped over to the Mountie's side. He gently took the shirt from Fraser and laid his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Don't worry Ben. We are going to figure this thing out. We're going to get Ray back. Brandauer said he was still alive. He said he needs him.....to get to me."

The weight of that statement seemed to suddenly settle onto the shoulders of the big man. He pulled a chair away from the table and sat down heavily. He continued to hold Ray's tee shirt, absently rubbing his thumb across the bloodstains.

"You want to know the crazy part of this whole thing Constable?"

What Fraser really wanted to know was just what was going on. But he also knew that this might be something that Welsh needed. Guilt was obviously weighing heavily on him right now. At this point, time must not be a factor. If it were Welsh would not be satisfied sitting here talking. Fraser bit back his anxiety. He trusted Welsh.

"What sir?"

"The Siracusa case started all of this. Not just Brandauer's need for revenge. But Ray and I's friendship as well." Welsh glanced up at Fraser, a sad wistful expression playing across his drawn features.

"I heard what a good cop Ray was before he took on this assignment. Hell. He had all those citations for bravery. He had a good work record and from everything I'd heard I was just damn lucky to be gettin' an officer like that." Welsh returned to absently rubbing the bloodstained shirt.

"Then I meet this guy and I can't help thinkin' Jeeze! Did someone sell me a bag of goods or what? This guy is a brick short of a load. It was like someone went in and gave this guy a bad re-wirin' job or somethin'. I mean the crazy shit can't set still for over a minute. The clothes....that hair....shit......and I don't think I've ever seen him without that damn vest. . . Hell...some of the things he comes up with would just...hell I don't know Fraser...Sometimes I think that alien abduction thing might warrant some investigation ....If you know what I mean."

Fraser smiled inspite of the seriousness of the situation.

"Oh yes Sir."

"Anyway. Then this Siracusa thing comes up. I mean..Ray had just come on board he hardly knew any of us. Vecchio was the one involved in that bust....but Ray is the one facin' the consequences. He's the one that has to go into that room with those two bloodthirsty morons. Hell. You guys got in there so late I didn't even have a chance to talk to Ray about it. And what does he do? Ray was the only one who went in there with those guys and had the brass to yelled back at 'em.? And that deal with the happy face...shit talk about improvising. But the line-up; that was the topper. He risked a trip to the 'big-house' on the hope that the guy would get unlucky. And it all worked."

Welsh shook his head sadly.

"Right then, I don't think I'd ever been prouder of one of my men. Right then is when I started to realize what I had in this guy. And he hasn't disappointed me yet. One of the things that amazes me is that the guy has absolutely no idea how really good he is at what he does. It's like...his not knowin' how good he is just makes him better somehow....Am I makin' any sense here Fraser ?"

"Absolutely Sir. I think you put it very well"

"When he stepped in for Vecchio he was totally alone. He was divorced. His parents had taken off right after he got out the Academy. They just checked out of his life. He doesn't see 'em for almost 8 years.....and I know Ray well enough to know that ain't the way he wanted it. I'm just glad his dad woke up before the only thing he had to come back to Chicago for was his son's funeral, or somethin'" Welsh almost sounded jealous.

"It didn't seem to matter though. No matter what got thrown at him he just put his head down and did what he had to do to go on. That takes guts."

Welsh looked at Fraser with a small smile.

"There was more than once when Ray came into my office and asked for my advice on somethin' or 'nother. He always did it kind of off-handed, like it embarrassed him a little....Hell there was times I would call him in and just give him some advice....He always seemed to listen..and I think he appreciated it."

"I know he did Sir. You really are quite fond of him. Aren't you Sir?...I mean beyond him being one of your detectives."

"Hell Fraser. Ya can't help but love the guy...What can I say?........He's like havin' a kid brother....or....or...a ...son." 

Welsh stood suddenly. He tossed Ray's shirt on the table.

"I tell ya one thing Fraser. If that scumbag hurts Ray. .So help me God I'll kill the son-of-a-bitch...and the devil take the hind most!"

 

 

The next half-hour was spent with Welsh filling the Mountie in on what little he knew about what was going to go down. It wasn't much. 

The instructions had been clear. Welsh was to go in to work Monday morning as usual. He was to report that he was going to pick Ray up at his apartment. The two were going to Willison to help out Welsh's brother with a small problem he was having. They should be back by Tuesday night at the latest. 

Welsh was then to go back to Ray's apartment and wait for a messenger to deliver his traveling instructions. 

"Excuse me Lt...Is that the exact terminology that was used?" Fraser's head was cocked to one side, as was his custom when deep in thought.

"What do you mean Constable?"

"Sir. Did the man actually use the work 'travel'?"

"Ya he did." A light had suddenly come into Welsh's eyes. He was beginning to understand.

"Well Sir. I believe that due to the choice of words, whatever is going to happen is planned to be carried out somewhere at considerable distance from the city." Fraser ran his thumbnail along the line of his brow.

"That would help explain the delay in this whole matter. What I mean Sir is; why wait until Monday for all of this to begin?"

"You have a point Constable." A certain slump came to the big man's shoulders. "Damn. Just another thing that works in Brandauer's favor....shit."

"Oh no Sir. Not necessarily. We have almost two days to try and figure this out. That is definitely to our advantage." 

"We got to be real careful here, Constable. This guy still has connections. If he gets wind of anything it could mean Ray's life." A shadow fell across Harding's features. "And we wouldn't even know where to look for his body." For a man who was feeling responsible for the entire situation, that was a thought almost too difficult to deal with. 

"Understood Sir. I can use the resources at the Consulate." Fraser stood to leave. "I will be very discreet."

"Hold on there Fraser. A couple more things here first." As he spoke Welsh stood and hurried to the door. "Wait here Constable."

When he returned Welsh was carrying Ray's cell phone.

"I want you to carry this Constable. Call me only on my cell phone, and no more than is absolutely necessary. I don't know what kind of resources Brandauer has at his disposal. We just got to be damn careful. I don't want Ray gettin' hurt here." Welsh paused and shot a glance at the table. "Well hurt anymore anyway."

"Understood."

"I just hope that crazy little shit don't get 'himself' in trouble." A smile tugged at the corner of the Lt.s mouth. "Three days is a long time for Ray to be good. I just hope whoever has him has a lot of patience...or a good set of ear-plugs."

Welsh slowly walked over to the table. He stood silently for several moments. Fraser was very near excusing himself when Welsh finally spoke.

"Come over here, Constable." Fraser walked silently over to join him.

Welsh carefully picked up Ray's shoulder holster. He held it for a long moment and then handed it to Fraser.

"I know how you feel about this kind of thing, Fraser, but I'm asking you to do this for Ray ...and me....I want you to carry this gun with you....I want you to use it if you have to." 

Surprisingly without hesitation Fraser accepted the weapon. 

"Yes Sir. If necessary."

Welsh dropped Ray's boot gun into the pocket of his jacket. 

Lt. Harding Welsh then did something that most people would not have understood. He took Ray's knife and cut a bloodstained piece from the tee shirt. He solemnly held it in his hand for a moment before placing it in his front pants pocket with his change. 

Fraser remembered his father, and he understood. 

Welsh returned the knife to its sheath, turned and handed the knife to Fraser. Fraser met Welsh's steady unapologetic gaze. Their eyes locked for a moment. They both knew what lay ahead. 

With renewed determination the two men shook hands and prepared to leave.

"You better go first Fraser...We don't know if someone is watching. We can't afford to be seen together."

Fraser and Dief were at the door when Welsh loudly cleared his throat.

"One other thing, Constable." Welsh quickly rubbed his big hand across his face.

"If we....'When we' get that little bean-head out of this mess....You tell him what I said about him bein' like a son.. an'....I'll deny it."

''Understood Sir....I believe though that a denial will do you no good...I believe Ray already understands."

With that Fraser and the wolf were gone.

Welsh stood in Ray's empty apartment. He absently looked around. His eyes were drawn to the light over the turtle. He stepped over checked it's water and gave it some food. He stood staring down into the tank. By force of habit he rammed his big hands down into his pockets. He felt the piece of Ray's shirt and held onto it tightly for quite some time. With effort he shook himself out of his thoughts, squared his shoulders and headed for the door. He had a Detective out there in trouble, and he stood by his Detectives. 

 

 

Things were starting to look up. Within a half-hour of reaching the Consulate Fraser had obtained a key bit of information. Brandauer owned a boat. He gave Turnbull instructions to keep digging. Without revealing too much to the man, Fraser expressed the need for discretion. He also stressed the necessity to not involve the Police Department. It was a request that only heightened Turnbull's curiosity. Tunball knew better than to ask.

The taxi dropped Fraser off at Brandauer's boat slip exactly 45 minutes after the boat had pulled out. Fraser was now pretty sure that his partner was on board.

Diefenbaker removed all doubt. The wolf had been nervously pacing up and down the dock, his hackles raised. Suddenly he stopped. He seemed focused on something on the ground. It was then that Dief turned and looked squarely into the Mountie's eyes. He laid his head back, and let go with a long wailing howl. It was a sound that could chill the soul of any man. It was a cry of mixed anguish and rage.

Fraser hurried over to check out what the wolf had found.

After close inspection Fraser determined it to be a combination of saliva and blood. Dief had found where Ray had spit out a mouth full of blood while talking with Mr. Brandauer.

Dief was nearly beside himself now. He began to frantically run up and down the dock. Once he appeared close to jumping into the water. Fraser motioned the wolf to his side.

"I know. He is my friend to."

"We will get him back."

"Yes we will."

"Well yes. I know you are concerned, but you must trust me on this."

"Yes. You are a very good swimmer, but you can not catch up with that boat." 

"Yes. I assure you we have other options." 

Fraser had to smile when he realized what Ray would have said about that little conversation. He always had to remind Fraser not to speak to the wolf in public. He said that it was embarrassing. Fraser didn't quite believe him anymore, but it was something that had become a part of their routine.

Ray and Dief really got along quite well. Dief had accepted Ray the first day. He was now a part of the pack, and therefore someone to be protected. 

Fraser could usually judge Ray's moods by how Dief was responding to him. In some cases Fraser thought the wolf understood his partner better than he did. For someone who talked as much as Ray did he could also stay very much within himself. 

For his part Ray was very comfortable with Diefenbaker. The 'real' Ray was often too concerned about his wardrobe. A few dog hairs on Ray Kowalski's tee shirts and jeans were hardly anything to notice. His appearance was not a high priority with Ray. As long as he was comfortable and didn't stink he was happy.

Fraser and Dief took one more look out across the lake and headed for the Harbor Office. Hopefully. Brandauer had requested charts, or possibly weather information for their destination. It was a long shot, but it was possible.

The Harbor Office was nearly a quarter mile from Brandauer's boat slip. It was right at one of the entrances to the docks. It proved no help. Brandauer had made no requests.

Fraser now knew that his only option was to canvas the docks and ask questions. He sighed heavily. This could take all day. That would leave only one more day to try and find his partner. The nagging fear that he had been keeping at bay suddenly began to burn down deep inside. He needed his partner. Ray had become a very important part of his life. He was his friend, and friends were precious commodities.

Fraser was shaken from his thoughts when Diefenbaker suddenly thew his head back and put his nose to the wind. The hackles again rose on the wolf's back as he let out an excited whine, and bounded off across the street. Fraser raced to catch up. Dief led him to a small parking area wedged between two buildings just down the block.

When Fraser caught up with his companion Dief was excitedly scratching at the door of on older blue van. Fraser approached carefully. The van was locked. After a quick look around to assure that he was not being observed, Fraser, in a most un-Mountie like fashion, picked the lock of the van. He and Dief were soon inside. He pulled the door shut behind them.

The first thing to be noticed was the blood-soaked towel that had been placed beneath Ray's head while he was unconscious. It was obvious from Dief's reaction that it was Ray's blood. Fraser shook his head sadly. He was relieved though that except for the towel there was very little other blood to be found. Maybe Ray wasn't hurt too bad after all. 

Fraser set about a thorough search of the van. He found the mother- lode under the front seat. It was a page from a road atlas. The atlas had evidently been shoved under the seat while opened and doubled over at the page that was being studied. The page had gotten caught on one of the seat springs, and when the atlas was removed the page had torn out. Fraser felt like a very lucky man.

The atlas page was for Michigan. A town along the East Coast of Lake Michigan was marked. Grand Haven. In the margin of the map was the name Spartan's Cove and what could be a phone number. Fraser hurriedly removed Ray's cell phone and punched in the number.

 

 

 

Welsh felt totally displaced. It was to be his first weekend off in over a month, and yet the only place that he felt comfortable was in his office. He sat at his desk numbly going over a report. He had read the first page three times and still could not have told anyone what he had just read. This really sucked. 

Harding had all these resources at his fingertips and was powerless. His head was throbbing. He knew that he needed to get some sleep, but going to his empty apartment was not a very pleasant prospect. Strangely he felt like returning to Ray's place. Maybe he could get some sleep there. He shook his head sadly. He took the small piece of Ray's tee shirt from his pocket and absently ran his thumb over the bloodstain. This feeling of shear helplessness was something that the big man was not used to. 

When Harding's cell phone sounded he quickly whispered up a short prayer and punched the button.

"Sir. This is Fraser. We have been incredibly lucky"

"Talk to me, Constable."

"Yes Sir. Ray is on Mr. Brandauer's boat. They are on their way to Grand Haven, Michigan. They have arranged to dock at a small marina called Spartan's Cove. They are expected to arrive sometime late this afternoon or early evening."

"That's great news Constable. I won't even ask how you found all this out so fast." Fraser could hear the pleasure in Welsh's voice.

"Well Sir. It wasn't me. It was Diefenbaker. He..."

"I said I wouldn't ask Constable"

"As you wish Sir."

"The question now, Constable, is what do we do with this information?"

"Well Sir. I have taken the liberty of talking to Inspector Thatcher. I hope you don't mind Sir, but I explained to her the situation. I have told her of the necessity of secrecy, and the grave consequences of any lapse. She has agreed to arrange my use of one of our country's helicopters. Sir, I believe that I can be at the marina before they arrive, or at least very shortly thereafter." Fraser had to take a rather big breath. He hated these long expositions.

"Constable. If you were here right now I would give ya a big hug...hell Thatcher too. This is great news."

"There is one thing Sir." 

Welsh's heart skipped a beat.

"What is it Constable?'

"Well Sir. I assured Inspector Thatcher that the Chicago Police Department would reimburse any expenses incurred by the Government of Canada."

Welsh couldn't help himself. He had to laugh.

"Oh don't you worry Constable. They will get their money if I have it pay it myself. Now you better get your butt movin'. And keep me posted."

"As you wish Sir. And you do the same Sir."

"Don't worry Constable. As soon as I get those instructions I'll be given' you a call. You just be careful. And find Ray."

"I will Sir."

Welsh was suddenly very tired. Happy but tired. He now knew that he could go home and get some sleep. A Mountie always gets his man.

 

 

Fraser reached Spartan's Cove Marina just minutes after the arrival of Brandauer's boat. It was obvious that the passengers were still on board. From a safe distance Fraser watched carefully. Three men emerged from the small vessel and stood on the dock. He recognized Brandauer, but the other two large men were strangers.

Suddenly Brandauer and one of the men turned and walked down the dock toward the office. The third man returned to the boat.

Fraser waited. It wasn't easy. He wanted nothing more then to charge down there and put an end to this. The necessary activity that had gotten him this far had kept his mind occupied. It had allowed his brain freedom from the thoughts and questions that now came rushing in. Was Ray alright.? He knew he had been hurt and bleeding, but how bad? Would he be able to get to his partner, and if he could, would Ray be able to help in his own escape.?....What would it be like if something went wrong and he had to face life without his friend? He had lost so much in his life....He didn't want to lose Kowalski....How much could one man stand to lose...?

Fraser pinched the bridge of his nose, and shook his head. That kind of thinking was counter-productive. Ray would be all right...he could get his friend out of this. There were only three bad guys and there were three of them. Fraser, Diefenbaker, and Ray Kowalski. This was a team that had been in some pretty tight spots before. They could get out of this one too. Seeming to have read the Mountie's thoughts Dief whined softly, looked at Fraser and wagged his tail in agreement. Fraser rubbed the wolf's head, turned his attention back to the boat, and waited. 

It was almost dark when Brandauer and Max returned with a rental car. The two men stood on the dock for quite sometime. Judging from the constant glances toward the sunset Fraser guessed that they were going to wait for dark to move Ray from the boat. That could be good or bad. Either Ray was injured bad enough that he would have to be carried off the boat, or he was in good enough shape that they were afraid he would try to do something to draw someone's attention. Fraser hoped that it was the latter. He would give almost anything to hear Ray shoot his mouth off again. Fraser couldn't help but smile. His father had always warned him to be careful what he wished for; he just might get it...that would be just fine right now.

The Stahley brothers spent the next half-hour loading stuff into the trunk of the rental car. Fraser was too far away to tell what was being loaded. He was sure only that nothing was loaded large enough to contain a Ray Kowalski. The night was going to be very chilly. Brandauer remained below deck. 

As the light began to fail, Fraser left Diefenbaker in the car and moved in closer. 

Brandauer and the two men stepped out on deck and took a quick look around. Brandauer made a slight motion towards the boat and then slowly turned and started for the car. Joe and Max returned below deck.

Fraser held his breath as he saw the two big men return topside, a smaller man supported between them.

It was obvious that Ray was not in very good shape. He was limping badly on his right leg. His left shoulder was carried low with his arm tucked tightly against his side. Max had Ray by the left elbow. Joe was on Ray's right side. His big hand had a firm grip on the back waistband of Ray's jeans. Ray's right arm was up across Joe's shoulder.

Fraser had to fight down the urge to get nearer. But he didn't want to chance it.

Brandauer gave one quick look around and motioned the men towards the car. As the three men left the boat and started down the dock Fraser began to melt back into the night. He looked back once. It seemed Ray had slumped even lower between the two towering men. Maybe he had been drugged. At this point Fraser was almost hoping for that to be the case. By the time they had Ray shoved into the backseat Fraser had returned to his rental car, and a very anxious wolf.

Brandauer's car moved slowly down the deserted dirt road. They had left Grand Haven just over a half-hour ago. They turned off the road and into a lane that snaked its way back through the woods. Fraser had been following at a safe distance, headlights off. He drove about one hundred yards past the lane. He found a spot to pull the car off the road, and into the woods.

Diefenbaker had spent almost the entire car ride with his nose pressed against the glass of the windshield. He seemed to understand that Ray was in that car. He knew that Ray was injured, he had smelled the blood of his pack mate. His natural instinct was to find and protect, but Fraser had made it plain that for now he should just find Ray. As the alpha-male it was Fraser's job to protect the pack. When they passed the lane down which Brandauer had turned Diefenbaker began to whine franticly. Fraser laid a calming hand on his companion's neck to quiet him. 

Once out of the car Fraser sent Dief out ahead and sprinted towards the lane. He carried a flashlight but the night was bright enough that it wasn't really needed. Once in the lane Fraser began to pace himself. 

He had jogged almost a half-mile when Deif came running back to meet him. The wolf whined excitedly, before falling into place just in front of Fraser. They jogged almost another quarter mile before the wolf began to slow. Dief lowered his pace to a careful trot. His hackles raised more with each step. 

Soon the lights of the cabin came into view. It appeared to be a fairly modern set up. There was electricity. From what Fraser could see of the roof silhouette, they also had TV and indoor plumbing. Fraser couldn't help but smile at the thought that this was Ray's idea of roughing it. If the situation had been different Ray would have been 'one happy camper'.

Fraser found a place as close as possible. He watched as The Stahley's removed what they had earlier stored in the trunk. They must have already moved Ray into the cabin.

Fraser was about to begin a quick check of the back of the cabin when Brandauer stepped out onto the porch and down the steps to join his two goons.

They were close enough for Fraser to overhear their conversation.

"Joe. You stay here with Vecchio." Brandauer moved towards the car as he spoke.

"Max and I are going to run back into that little burg and pick up some groceries. We shouldn't be gone long."

Fraser watched as the car slowly drove off down the lane. This could be his chance. The odds had suddenly gotten much better.

The one thing that Fraser hadn't counted on was Joe Stahley. He was a very careful man.

Fraser watched through the windows as the big man moved cautiously around the cabin. He shut off all the unnecessary lights. Joe then moved out to the darkened front porch and sat down in the corner, a shotgun lying across his lap. There was no approach, except head on. There was no way for Fraser to get near without showing himself.

Fraser began to quietly circle the cabin. Except for a light over the kitchen sink the only remaining light appeared to be at the rear. It appeared to be a small room off the back porch. Fraser carefully approached the window. As he drew near he could hear a muffled coughing. It was Ray.

Fraser quickly opened the window and slipped through. He stepped to the door and took a quick check. Then he returned to the side of his struggling partner.

It had not been a good boat ride for Stanley Raymond Kowalski. 

Ray had barely regained consciousness when Brandauer and Max had returned to the boat. Within a few minutes he heard the motor fire. He hated boat rides. He couldn't swim. Didn't these guys know that?

Ray gingerly pulled himself to a sitting position. Each movement sent stabbing pains through his chest. Each effort brought a strangled grunt and a quick shallow breath. 

Ray carefully opened the coat and shirt to inspect the damages. It didn't look good, but he was no doctor. All he knew for sure was that he couldn't get a good breath. He again fought down the panic that began to rise up inside. It had always been one of his fears. That was why he had never learned to swim. When the water would start to get up around his chest it felt like it was going to suffocate him. Like it was going to take his breath. It felt very much like this.

Ray concentrated on trying to relax. He was still alive. He was getting enough air to survive and that was exactly what he planned to do. He was going to survive.

Ray had just settled himself back against the cushions when a new problem began to make itself known. He was going to get seasick. Being in the bow of the boat was the wrong place for this land-lover.

Ray spent the rest of the trip in a daze of dry heaves, incredible pain and then darkness. A terrible pattern that repeated itself over and over until he was totally spent.

It wasn't a particularly pleasant trip for Joe either. If not for Joe, Ray would have probably choked on his own vomit. The big man spent most of the trip doing his best to make Ray as comfortable as possible. Joe would try and support Ray's ribs as he threw his guts up into a bucket. He would then clean Ray up as best he could, talking in a soothing voice as he worked. It wasn't pleasant but it was his job. It was just a job. That's what he kept telling himself.

Now Ray was setting on a small cot in this cabin. He was doubled over, his head almost between his knees. His body racked with a deep painful coughing. He was trying to muffle it into the sleeve of the big coat. Even in such a dazed state his instinct was to hide any weakness from his captors.

Fraser knelt down beside his friend. Ray's face was a dark red. The veins in his neck and forehead were clearly visible from the strain of trying to clear his now congesting lungs.

Fraser gently placed the palm of one hand on Ray's forehead, and cupping the other hand under his chin slowly raised his head. Ray made a feeble attempt to catch the string of saliva that drooled from his mouth.

"It's alright Ray I got ya. You're going to be alright."

Ray tried to focus his eyes on the face that went with that familiar voice.

Ray gasped for breath, his left arm not able to ease the shooting pains that accompanied each attempt. 

Another deep cough threatened to double him over. Fraser quickly pulled Ray's head over and held it against his shoulder. He gently rubbed his partner's back and talked reassuringly into his ear.

"It's alright Ray. Try to relax. I'm right here." Fraser closed his eyes and prayed.

Ray was having a terrible dream. He was drowning. He couldn't breathe. And he was filled with the terror of it. He struggled to reach the surface. To reach the air that would again fill his starving lungs. 

Suddenly he could hear the voice of his friend gently bringing him back up towards the light. Fraser is patiently reassuring him that everything is going to be all right. 

Fraser has never lied to him. He never would lie to him. 

Fraser was the one person in the world that could remove this terror. 

Slowly Ray began to relax into Fraser's arms. The coughing stopped. The shuddering gasps began to slow. Fraser talked quietly in Ray's ear. He talked about Dief, and how concerned he was for his pack mate. He talked about how worried Welsh was. He continued to assure him that they were all going to get through this thing together. 

Fraser held his partner as close to him as he could, willing him to breathe. Wanting so desperately to ease his pain. Fraser continued rubbing his back, gently rocking him ever so slightly, careful not to cause him more pain. 

Ray was now leaning heavily against his friend. His breathing had slowed. At last a small tired sigh.

"Fraser?' Ray's voice was very hoarse and low.

"Yes Ray. It's me. Are you alright now?" Fraser continued the gentle rocking.

"Just relax and breathe. Everything is going to be alright." Fraser gently stroked Ray's sweat soaked hair. "You're going to be ok...I promise...just breathe"

Ray's right hand was cuffed to a piece of chain that was fastened to the wall. The chain was just long enough to allow Ray to reach a small table set near the bed... and the arm of his friend.

"Ya Fraser I'm better....I'm good....just got...a little panicked there.....but I'm...ok ...now."

Fraser felt Ray's hand weakly grip his arm. He smiled. Ray was still with him.

Fraser carefully pushed Ray away from him. He needed to know how badly he was injured. He gently raised Ray's head and looked at him closely. There was a scrape on the right side of his face. His nose was obviously broken, and now both eyes were black. Ray's lip was split and there were some flecks of fresh blood around his mouth. Fraser's heart dropped.

The broken nose and split lip were obviously injuries from last night. Neither seemed to have done any bleeding lately.

"Ray. Is your nose still wanting to bleed?"

"Nah. It's ok...I just got ..really seasick on that damn boat..an'.."

"Ray. Do you think your ribs might be broken?"

"Maybe...some but I'm good ta go..I just got....ya know..kinda scared...I couldn't breathe very good..an..."

"Ray I'm going to open your coat up here and take a look. I'll try not to hurt you."

As he spoke Fraser gently opened Ray's coat and shirt. He slowly leaned Ray back against the wall so he could closely examine his friend. What he saw brought a terrible knot into his throat. 

Ray's entire left side was a mass of bruises. Bruises more black than blue, with angry red splotches mixed in. Ray's right rib cage was scrapped and bruised. A large bruise could be seen over the waistband of his jeans, just above his right hip. Fraser carefully rubbed his fingers down the left side of Ray's chest.

Ray gasped in pain.

"I'm sorry Ray."

"Soo..k..Fraser..I'm just a little sore right in there...but it ain't so bad now...I'm good ta go..I just got really sick....it ain't easy bein' sick ..with sore ribs...ya know?"......

"Its ok Ray. Really I understand."

Ray's eyes were glazed and his voice was no more than a whisper. Fraser laid his hand along Ray's jaw and using his thumb gently rubber the flecks of blood from his mouth. Ray weakly raised his cuffed hand to Fraser's arm and held on.

"I knew ..ya'd find me buddy...I just got...ya know...a little freaked...there for a minute...it just...I..sick .... on that stupid little boat...really sick....but....." Ray's eyes fluttered shut as he spoke. His grip weakening on his partner's arm ...."I'm just.. tired...that's all..."

"It's ok Ray. You relax. I'm going to get you out of here." Fraser carefully removed Ray's now limp hand from his arm.

Fraser began a near frantic search of the small room. He needed something to cut the cuff-chain. He berated himself for not thinking to bring an extra set of cuff keys. He should have known.

Nothing

Fraser would have to try and pick the lock. 

He took a deep breath. He had to remain calm. He was going to get his partner out of this mess.

The Mountie quickly took Ray's right hand and began working on the lock.

A flurry of emotions raced through Fraser's mind. Fear, anger, love for this man who was his partner, panic...why hadn't he brought something to get these cuffs off? Why had he waited so long to start this.?...But Ray had been choking...he had to save his partner...Why had he waited so long?... 

Ray moaned softly. Fraser glanced up as Ray's eyes slowly opened.

"Fraser?"

"Yes Ray. It's going to be all right. I'm going to get you out of here."

Suddenly Diefenbaker put his front feet on the window frame and gave a small quiet bark. Fraser froze and listened carefully. He could hear Brandauer returning.

He threw himself back into the task. He almost had it. If given enough time he knew he could get this lock picked. Fraser heard the car doors slam. He could do this. He glanced up into Ray's now frightened eyes.

"Fraser?"

"I can get this Ray. I know I can.." Perspiration was beginning to show on Fraser's face as he tried to fight down his rising panic. 

"Fraser...Fraser...Benton!" Fraser again looked up into his partner's eyes. The fear had been replaced by a look of cool determination and compassion.

"Got ta go Benton buddy...ya ain't gonna do me any good if they catch ya here." Ray quickly turned his hand over and grabbed Fraser's wrist.

"I know you'll be back... I wouldn't have gotten far anyway...We both know it..It's ok." Ray gave Fraser a small crooked smile and a wink.

"Ray...I can't.."

"Gotta do it Fraser buddy...don't make me kick ya in the head here...I'm a little tired ya know." Ray gently squeezed his friend's wrist. "Get." 

Fraser rose slowly to his feet. His face reflected the frustration and guilt that was tearing at his insides. He knew Ray was right. He hated to leave him here...like this...if he would have only started on the lock sooner.

Dief gave another low whine. Fraser quickly grabbed Ray's hand and gave it a squeeze. He turned and silently slipped back out the window. As he lowered the window Fraser looked at his partner. Their eyes locked, and both friends gave a sad smile.

"I will stay close Ray..and I will be back for you." Ray nodded at his partner's words. 

Fraser and the wolf moved silently back into the night.

Once a safe distance from the cabin Fraser pressed his back against a large old oak tree, and slowly slid down, bringing his knees up against his chest. He pressed the heels of his hands into his tear-filled eyes. Fraser was not an emotional man. He had been taught that men just don't cry, but right now that was what he wanted to do. He couldn't remember ever having done anything more difficult than what he had just done. He knew that it was a waste of energy to second-guess one's actions. But he somehow felt that he had let Ray down. He had left his partner behind. 

Fraser wrapped his arms around his legs. He lowered his head to his knees and sighed deeply. Diefenbaker came to the side of his troubled companion and gently nuzzled his head up under Fraser's arm. Fraser buried his face into the wolf's coat and shuddered. This was doing no one any good. Fraser forced himself to his feet and began the long walk back to the car. 

Like any good Mountie, Fraser had come prepared. He removed a fully furnished pack form the trunk of the rental car and returned to the cabin. He found a safe strategic location from which he could watch both doors of the cabin and yet not be seen. He quickly set up a dry camp. Only then did he reach for Ray's cell phone.

 

 

It was after midnight when Welsh's cell phone brought him instantly out of a sound sleep. He had been waiting to hear from the Mountie. He could only hope that it was going to be good news.

"Constable. That you?"

"Yes sir... It's Fraser." The hesitation in Fraser's voice instantly started a knot in Welsh's stomach.

"I have found Ray...He is alive. I was with him..for awhile...but" Fraser's voice caught as he tried to continue. How could he tell Welsh what he had done? He had left Ray behind.

"Hold on there just a minute Fraser. I want you to listen to me." Welsh had quickly picked up on the guilt, obvious in Fraser's voice.

"The key phrase here is that 'he's alive'. I don't know what happened up there Fraser, but I know you. What ever you did, I know it was your best." Welsh softened his tone as he continued. "Now Constable, I want you to take a deep breath and just tell me what happened."

Fraser quickly told Welsh everything that had happened at the cabin. He was thankful for the big man's words. It made the guilt almost bearable. He described Ray's injuries. It wasn't easy. In his mind's eye he could still clearly see the terrible damage done to his friend. Ray was so thin a feature that sometimes worried Fraser. At times his thinness made him appear almost fragile. To see that slender body so badly beaten, was a frightening thing. 

"Ray's one tough little son-of-a-bitch, Fraser. If anyone can get through this mess its Ray." Welsh knew that Fraser was beating himself over the head for leaving Ray behind. He also knew that Fraser had to come to grips with it in order to function at his best. He didn't need to be distracted by a guilty conscience. 

"Shoe leather is thin, Fraser, but its tougher'n hell. If we keep our wits about us, and use our heads we can still get the little shit out of this mess."

"I hope you are right Lt." Fraser hesitated to continue. "I know I'm not a doctor Sir..and I can't be sure...but I'm afraid that Ray may be bleeding into his lung." Fraser then told Welsh about the coughing, and the flecks of fresh blood around Ray's mouth.

Welsh closed his eyes and sighed deeply. This was not good news. The line was silent for a long time. Welsh suddenly snapped his head up and spoke forcefully into the phone.

"You listen to me Fraser. If it ain't killed him yet. It ain't goin' to. You understand what I'm sayin'?." The determination in the older man's voice was contagious. "That is the only way that we can play this hand. That is the way we are going to look at it. We are going to get Ray out, and Ray is going to survive this thing. Do you understand me Constable?"

"Understood." Fraser suddenly felt better. Welsh was right. They were going to get Ray out.

"Alright Constable." Welsh rubbed his big hand across his face and continued. "You keep an eye on that cabin. Take the chance to get him out if it's a good one. If not I will be calling you Monday, after I get my instructions. Ya follow me?"

"Yes Sir" 

"Good then Fraser...You better get some rest." Welsh slowly put his cell phone on the nightstand. 

The big man walked quietly out to his small livingroom and removed a rather dusty book from the small bookshelf beside the TV. As Welsh returned to the bedroom he carefully dusted the book off against his sweat-pants. He knelt down by the bed, opened the Bible and began to pray.

 

 

Fraser decided to make a quick check on Ray before he bedded down for the night. As he silently approached the window he caught the movement of someone in the small back room. He approached cautiously. He eased himself up to the window where he could see in, without being observed from the inside.

Ray was in the same position as when Fraser left. He was setting on the bed with his back leaned against the wall. He was asleep. Fraser watched as one of the big men leaned over and gently began to button Ray's shirt. After closing the big coat around him he carefully gave the smaller man a shake. He laid his hand along Ray's jaw, much as Fraser had earlier, and gently shook Ray's head.

"Hey pit-bull!..Ya goin' to wake up?" Fraser's face reflected his curiosity.

"Come on little fella. We better get some water into you." Ray's eyes slowly fluttered open.

"Fraser?" Ray struggled to focus.

"Na..Ya dummy...It's me Joe." The big man pulled Ray carefully into a setting position.

Joe reached over to the small table and got the bottle of water that he had left there for Ray earlier. He pulled the cap off and handed it to Ray. He then helped Ray guide it to his mouth.

"Don't drink to much at once. I sure don't want you throwin' up anymore. I had enough of that shit on the boat." Joe watched Ray closely.

It took Ray a few minutes to get his bearings. He took several small sips from the offered water. It felt good on his raw throat. He slowly looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. Fraser suddenly realized that Ray might have been so out of it when they first brought him in, that he might not even remember Fraser being there. In a way he almost hoped that was the case, then Ray wouldn't remember that he had left him behind as well.

Ray's eyes finally came to rest on the window. A puzzled look came onto his face as he dropped his eyes down to study the water bottle. It appeared as if he were trying to remember something. Suddenly a bright smile danced quickly across his features. He glanced back towards the window and smiled again. Fraser now knew that his friend did remember his presence, and that memory made him happy. Fraser smiled.

Joe then produced a half of a sandwich from his jacket pocket. As he unwrapped it, he rose and sat on the bed beside Ray.

"Ya better try and eat somethin'. I sure as hell know your empty." the big man smiled as he continued. "I had a front row seat to that deal."

Ray took the sandwich, cocked his head at the big man and gave him a sly wink.

"Price ya pay for a life of crime, big guy." Ray smiled as he took a tentative bite from the sandwich.

"Who the hell is this Fraser fella?" Joe watched as Ray took another small bite. "That's the second time you mentioned him."

"That's somethin' I been wantin' to talk to you about, ole buddy. I guess I owe ya that much." Ray lowered his hand to his lap and carefully shifted his position.

"Fraser is my partner. If I don't get out of this mess he'll be comin' after all of you. I figure you deserve to know that up front. You know what they say; a Mountie always gets his man...or men...which in this case includes the up-chuck-catchin'- king of the Great Lakes..your friend and mine...jailer Joe." Ray smiled over at the large man.

Fraser smiled. He had hoped to hear Ray shoot his mouth off again. 'You have to be careful what you wish for'...not this time... Ray's breathing was still far from good, but Fraser was glad to see that it was much improved from earlier.

"Who is this guy?...A Mountie?...What the hell is a Mountie doin' in Chicago?" Joe was looking at Ray curiously. 

"Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. He first came to Chicago on the trail of his father's killer, and due to circumstances that don't require going into at this juncture, has remained as Deputy Liaison Officer with the Canadian Consulate." Ray's face suddenly took on a stricken look. He dropped his chin to his chest and shook it sadly.

Joe quickly took hold of Ray's elbow. "You ok Ray?"

Ray looked up at Joe and smiled. "Just shoot me. Shit...I never thought I'd ever say that...that crazy Canadian's got me brain washed. If you ever tell anyone I said that I'll kick-ya-in-the-head..."

Ray's looked steadily into the bigger man's eyes. A rather sad smile appeared on his pale face.

"Fraser is my partner Joe, but he's also my friend....best friend I ever had in 'my' miserable life. You better listen to me when I say; that if I don't get out of this alive, he will be coming after you...and he won't quit...and it ain't goin' to matter what you do....or where you go...he'll just keep comin'....and he 'will' get ya." Ray studied the remainder of the sandwich as he continued.

"Fraser is one of the best human beings I've ever met...all the regular stuff ya know....Don't lie, don't cheat, don't swear...but more than that he's... good......and ....kind....he's just...shit I don't know.... It's like just bein' around him makes 'you' better...well ...it makes you want to try anyway." Ray absently rubbed the side of his jaw.

"Thing is Joe. He's one of those guys that if he gives you his word......it's just a done deal...ya know?..Even if he didn't like me...I'm his partner...he'd be 'duty bound'...only with Fraser it's to the max...he would never quit." Ray looked back at the sandwich. He shook his head in obvious wonder. "I can't really figure out why he wants me for a friend...I ain't much,...but I am his friend. I didn't always believe it...but he just didn't give up on me."

Joe motioned for Ray to take another bite of the sandwich.

"Would you do the same thing for him ya think?" Joe studied Ray's face carefully. He still wanted to know just what made this guy tick. It was obvious to Joe what kind of man Ray was, and yet he seemed to put himself far below his Mountie friend.

"Oooh Ya, like I could!" Ray almost laughed. "Don't get me wrong. I'd want to like hell....and I would damn sure try...but I just don't know if I got the kind of stuff in me that Fraser's got in him...he's kind of unique...Hell I call him a 'freak'!... He just don't know it's a complement...can't have him gettin' a big head...ya know?" 

The two sat in silence. Ray eating the last of the sandwich, Joe deep in thought.

"Thanks for tellin' me that Ray...It might come in handy 'cause I can't see you gettin' out of this mess." Joe handed Ray the water bottle. "Don't get me wrong...it ain't goin' to bring me no pleasure....but I'm kind of locked in, if you know what I mean?...It's Max ...I guess you could say he's 'my' Fraser."

"See? I can understand that Joe...don't make it right...but I can understand it...and its ok..ya know?" Ray attempted to hand the water bottle back with his left arm, causing a pain to shoot through his battered chest. He couldn't stop the groan that escaped his lips.

"Easy there little fella'.. You better try and get some rest." 

Joe took the bottle and placed it back on the table. He helped Ray ease himself down on the bed, and even removed his boots. Joe then took an old blanket from the foot of the bed and carefully covered the crazy Chicago Detective, who had somehow become his friend, or as close a friend as the circumstances would allow.

"You ok like that Ray?" Joe seemed hesitant to leave.

"Ya Joe. I'm good...Thanks" Ray was suddenly very tired. He fought to keep his eyes open. It seemed Joe had something he wanted to say. "You ok Joe?'

"Ya...I just...shit!" Joe scratched his head in embarrassment. "I guess I just want to thank ya...You know...for understandin' "

"Well just don't push your luck jailer Joe...you give me the chance and your ass is mine...pow..just like the movies." Ray stifled a yawn and winked sleepily at the bigger man.

"Shit!" With that Joe walked to the door. Ray didn't see the man hesitate before leaving, taking one more look back. With a sad shake of his head, but with a bit of a smile, Joe gave the now sleeping Detective a wink of his own. 

Fraser leaned his back against the cabin and rubbed his eyebrow with his thumbnail. He had returned to the cabin to make sure that Ray was all right. He had wanted Ray to understand that he was still here and that he hadn't left. He had wanted to reassure his partner, and make him feel better. As it was, Ray seemed to be in pretty good hands, considering. Ray understood that his friend was going to be there for him. He needed no reassurance. And to his pleasant surprise it was Fraser who felt better. 

 

 

Sunday was going to be a beautiful day in the state of Michigan. Fraser was up before dawn. He wanted to check on Ray before the light of day would hinder his movements. He moved quickly to the window of the back room and took a careful look. Ray was still asleep. Ray had moved only slightly since last night. Fraser studied his sleeping friend closely. It was obvious that Ray's breathing was still rather labored, but it didn't seem any worse. That was a good sign. If he were bleeding into his lung, it had either slowed, or hopefully had stopped altogether. Ray shifted positions slightly. Even that small motion brought a grimace of pain to his pale features. Fraser's jaw muscles tightened. He felt so helpless. 

Fraser returned to his camp. He spent the rest of the day watching, hoping for another opportunity to get his partner out of that cabin and back to the car. That opportunity never came.

It was about an hour before dark when Fraser got a very pleasant surprise. He caught a motion at the back door. The big man named Joe stepped out onto the back porch with Ray. His friend was moving slow, and didn't seem too steady on his feet, but he was up. Joe took him by the elbow and helped him down the few steps to the ground. They didn't walk far. Even from a distance Fraser could see that Ray was struggling but it brought a smile to the Mounties face. He was very proud of his partner. Welsh was right. Ray was one tough little son-of-a-bitch; of course Fraser would have never said it out loud. 

Once they were back on the porch Joe helped Ray ease himself down in one of the chairs and then took a seat beside him. The two men seemed at ease with each other. The Mountie's curiosity was again aroused. It seemed on odd way to form a friendship. Fraser could even hear a laugh out of the big man from time to time. He just hoped it would work to Ray's advantage. 

Dief gave a small whine and put his nose to the wind. He pranced around Fraser in anticipation. He knew that was Ray. Fraser made a few complicated hand motions to the wolf and then signaled him on. Diefenbaker bounded away joyously. He quickly circled to the rear of the cabin. Dief maintained a safe distance, but moved out into the open. The wolf laid his head back and howled. He stared at the two men on the porch of the cabin, and howled again.

Joe Stahley had never seen a wolf before. He jumped to his feet. "What the hell is that?"

"Relax Joe." Ray couldn't help but laugh, even though it hurt him to do it. "It's just a timber wolf. They have timber wolves in Michigan ya know." 

Ray was smiling broadly. He had recognized his 'other' partner instantly. He knew Fraser was near.

"How do you know so much about wolves?" Joe was watching the wolf in amazement.

"When you've been partners with an over-educated Daniel Boone as long as I have, you kind of pick up on that kind of stuff." Ray couldn't help but laugh again. Ouch...oh well.

Diefenbaker looked straight at Ray let out a rather happy little bark and then disappeared back into the woods. 

Joe's face was shining like a child's. "That was so cool...I can't believe it...did you see that thing go Ray?"

"Sure did Joe. Sad thing of it is, in this day and age that darn ole wolf there probably lives on jelly donuts or somthin'." Ray smiled at his own personal joke. He would have to explain it to Joe someday, if he ever got the chance.

"Well little fella. We better get back inside. It's startin' to get chilly out here." Joe was still smiling as he watched the woods for any sign of the wolf.

Joe helped Ray to his feet. Before Joe led him back into the cabin, Ray walked slowly to the edge of the porch. He studied the tree line for a moment. He slowly raised his right hand. He carefully laid his thumb on the side of his broken nose and smiled.

 

 

It had been the longest two days of his life. Lt. Harding Welsh breezed in and out of the squad room so quick on Monday morning that most of the unit didn't even know that he had been there. That was just the way he wanted it. The less time spent there, the fewer questions asked, and the lower the chance of anything screwing this deal up. Simple.

Welsh just hoped he was doing the right thing. He usually tried to go by the book. But this was personal; this was Ray Kowalski's life. The life of his friend was in jeopardy because of him. Brandauer's main goal in life was to destroy Harding Welsh and he was trying to use Ray to do it. He wasn't going to succeed.

Welsh returned to Ray's apartment to wait for his instructions. Harding had hoped to hear from Fraser again. He was worried about Ray. He knew that Ray's injuries were potentially life threatening. Yes. It had been a very long two days.

As he roamed Ray's apartment Harding would often return his hand to the pocket that still carried the small piece of Ray's bloodied tee shirt. He had liked Ray every since that deal with Siracusa, but it wasn't until the reality of this entire situation had worked itself down inside that he realized just how much. It wasn't anything that he could have explained. Ray always tried to come across as your typical tough Chicago cop, but Welsh had seen that vulnerable side of him as well. Kowalski didn't want to see anyone get hurt, because he knew what it felt like to be hurt. Because of that Ray was not a trusting person. It had taken a long time and it hadn't been easy, but Welsh knew that Ray trusted Fraser. Harding was pretty sure that Ray trusted him now as well. He didn't want to let that trust down now, or ever.

It was just before ten o'clock when the messenger arrived. Welsh gave the man his tip and quickly shut the door. The instructions were simple. Harding was to drive to Allendale, Michigan. There would be a room waiting for him at the local Motel 8. He was to wait there for a phone call giving him his final destination. It was time to call Fraser.

The drive to Allendale was surprisingly uneventful. Surprising in the fact that Welsh didn't get a speeding ticket. Between his near overpowering desire to get this thing done, and the GTO, Harding was having a hard time staying at least close to the posted speed limits.

It was no wonder Ray loved this car. It was quick, responsive, literally reeked with power, and as Brandauer had mentioned was very noticeable. Harding had to smile. If Ray couldn't get more dating action with a car like this maybe he needed to have a good heart to heart talk with the guy.

Welsh had figured the trip would take about four hours, considering the traffic. He made it to Allendale around 2:30 in the afternoon, and was settled into his motel by 3:00. Now all that remained was the waiting. But that was the hard part.

Fraser had filled Welsh in on the happenings around the cabin Sunday. Welsh had felt a hard knot in his gut start to loosen when Fraser told him about Ray being out on the back porch that evening. Harding could hear the smile in Fraser's voice when he talked about Ray giving the 'I'll cover ya' sign. It was a signal that the three of them used often. In many ways it had come to mean much more than what was originally intended, it had become a sign of their friendship.

The call came an hour later. At the sound of Brandauer's voice Lt. Harding Welsh kicked himself into full tough-guy mode. He could not allow Brandauer to know about the nervous knot that was tightening his insides.

"Well hello Harding my friend." Brandauer was truly enjoying the power he held over his adversary. "I knew you would come. You're soft Welsh. You have allowed your emotions to cloud your better judgement. I can't for the life of me understand how you could care what happens to this smart-ass detective. Although I think you may find that he is much more humble now."

"Cut the bull-shit Brandauer. Let's just get this little show on the road." Welsh fought hard in keeping his voice from reflecting his anger. "I want to talk to Ray."

"I figured as much Harding my friend." Welsh could hear the satisfaction in the fat man's voice. "That is the 'only' reason he is alive." 

It had been a good couple of days for Ray Kowalski. He had spent almost all Sunday sleeping. Joe would wake him just long enough to get him to drink some water, and maybe get him to eat a little bit. The short trip out on the porch that evening had been great, but by the time he was back in the small room he was very nearly done in. Joe made him eat part of a sandwich. By the time the bigger man had helped Ray get comfortably situated on the cot, he could barely keep his eyes open. Ray awoke Monday morning feeling even better. Maybe he wasn't hurt as badly as he thought.

Joe came in often and even made sure that Ray had a hot lunch, but something had changed. Joe was being very reserved. He didn't speak to Ray unless it was necessary, and he had difficulty meeting Ray's questioning gaze. Ray began to understand that whatever was going to go down between Welsh and Brandauer was going to happen today. 

A part of Ray was glad to know that this nightmare was soon going to be over, one way or the other, but another part of him was really scared. He didn't want to see Welsh or Fraser get hurt in trying to get him out of this mess. It was his own fault. He should have been more careful. He should never have allowed himself to be taken that way. He didn't know if he could handle it if anything happened to his friends because of him....and then there was Joe.

In a strange kind of way Joe had become his friend. Just the idea of that made Ray smile. He must really be crazy. Sure if not for Joe he would probably have not survived this long...But hey. This guy had broken his nose, thrown him in that van and hauled him off...Joe was one of the bad guys....He was a part of this stupid plan to get to Welsh...to kill him. It was strange. Even with that realization Ray couldn't hate Joe. Ray had followed Fraser into enough wildly bizarre situations to understand the power of loyalty. Fraser was Ray's best friend. Max was Joe's brother. Ray Kowalski could understand that. 

What Ray couldn't know was just how alike he and Joe were. Both men showed the world one person, while a totally different one lived inside. Both men longed to view the world with the same child-like wonder Joe had displayed when he had seen the "timber' wolf the night before. The world, however had chosen to show them too much of the other part. The painful part. The part that could destroy you if you allowed it. Ray and Joe had both learned early that one way to avoid that was to build defenses. They had both built walls to protect their tender souls. Unfortunately the walls could keep out the good parts as well. It hadn't been easy, but thanks to Fraser's friendship Ray was starting to learn that the good could be worth a little pain.

Shortly after four in the afternoon Joe came into the room. 

"They need ya out in the kitchen Ray." Joe couldn't look Ray in the eye. "Your boss wants to talk to ya."

Ray said nothing as the bigger man unfastened the cuffs. He put Ray's hands together in front and refastened them. Joe carefully helped Ray to his feet and taking him by the left elbow slowly led him to the kitchen.

Brandauer had stayed as far from 'Vecchio' as he could. He had come very close to killing the younger man earlier and he knew it. He also knew that Ray's mouth could very easily set him off, and he couldn't risk losing control again. He needed the Detective alive just awhile longer. 

Ray was just about to say something obnoxious to the big man when Joe gently pushed Ray's elbow into his tender ribcage. By the time Ray had recovered his breath Brandauer had shoved the phone up to the detectives ear.

"Talk to your boss...smart guy," Brandauer hadn't caught the reason for Ray's silence.

"Ya. Lt.?" Ray hated this he felt like a Judas goat, leading his friends to their death.

"Ray? Good...good...you ok Detective.?" Ray could hear the strain in Welsh's voice.

"Ya. I'm just peachy." Ray suddenly wished Welsh would just go back to Chicago and leave him alone. He didn't want anyone getting hurt trying to save his miserable life. Especially Welsh. He had forgotten how much he cared for the older man until he heard his voice again.

"Cut the crap Ray...We need to know." Welsh suddenly understood where Ray's attitude was coming from. "...and don't you do anything stupid....Ray we're going to get you out of this. Now talk to me!"

"I'm good ta go boss....not far or fast but ...alittle sore...ya know." There was suddenly a lot that Ray wanted to say to this man. Things he should have said before.

Brandauer suddenly pulled the phone away from Ray and motioned Joe to return him to the back room. Joe felt Ray gather himself to do or say something that was going to get himself into trouble again...Damn this little guy just didn't give up. Joe quickly and not near as gently as before pressed Ray's elbow into his bruised side. The motion got the desired affect. Ray groaned sharply and caved in towards his left side. Joe fought down the desire to smack off the grin that Brandauer gave him as he helped Ray out of the kitchen. 

"Satisfied Harding? Your little friend will be here waiting for you." Brandauer laughed wickedly.

Welsh fought back the urge to scream his rage through the phone lines. He knew that was what Brandauer wanted. He refused to give him that pleasure. He remained silent, waiting for the final instructions. Brandauer wasted no time. Welsh was given the directions to the cabin and given the time that he was to arrive.

"I will be seeing you soon Harding old friend. I just hope you have made peace with your maker because I assure you that this will be the last day of your life." The confidence in the man's voice did not make an impression on Welsh. He couldn't allow it to.

 

It was nearly dark when Welsh left the motel room. He was to be at the cabin at 9:00 that evening. He didn't like the idea of this thing going down at night. It would have clearly been to Brandauer's advantage if not for the Mountie. Welsh called Fraser after talking with Brandauer. The Mountie assured him that he had familiarized himself with the area around the cabin.

"The nights have been very bright as well Lt." Fraser had picked up on the weariness in Welsh's voice. "I am totally confident Sir, that we will get Ray out. He will be just fine."

Welsh couldn't help but smile. It wasn't that long ago that he had been the one reassuring the Mountie when he had his doubts. But that was what partnership was all about; balance. When one was at a low point the other would be there to hold things together. Ray was a lucky man...hell they both were...Fraser was a good partner to have in a pinch.

Ray was asleep when Joe came in to get him. He carefully shook him awake and helped him set up.

"It's time to go Ray." Joe busied himself with the handcuffs avoiding Ray's eyes.

"What's the plan here jailer Joe?" Ray was hoping that a little inside information might come in handy.

"Max really wouldn't tell me much little fella....so I'm afraid it may not be too much fun...for either of us." Joe hesitated before going on. "I just wish..ya know that things could have been different...but Max is my brother and...shit...you know."

"Ya. I know. '' Ray suddenly took Joe by the wrist forcing the big man to finally look at him. "You remember what I said the other day....it ain't right...but I do understand...and I forgive ya."

Joe froze. Why did he have to say that.? It was enough that the little shit understood....did he have to forgive him...shit this guy was somethin' else. Why did he have to say that?

Joe led Ray through the cabin to the front porch.

"Well Vecchio? Are you ready to climb onto the hook?" Brandauer stepped up into Ray's face. "Your boss will be here in about an hour. I thought you might want a chance to enjoy the night air awhile before he gets here. I want Welsh to know just how well we have been treating you. I want him to be able to see what being his friend has cost you." 

Before Ray could think up a good comeback Max stepped up, and with a warning glance at Joe took Ray by the elbow. Max took the cuff key from Joe and released Ray's hands. He roughly stripped the coat and flannel shirt from the smaller man. Although he couldn't hide the pain that the rough treatment caused him, Ray didn't make a sound. The large man then fastened Ray's hands in front of his body. 

Max led Ray over to a tree, which stood just off from the side of the porch. The porch light bathed the tree in a strange half-light. He fastened a rope to the cuffs, threw the other end over a low limb and pulled Ray's cuffed hands harshly above his head. The pain in his chest was almost more than he could stand. He couldn't stifle the hoarse scream that escaped him. Ray's knees would have buckled but the rope wouldn't allow it. By the time Max had the rope tied off Ray was forced to stand on tiptoe to give his screaming muscles any relief. Ray fought down the rising terror. It was very hard to breathe.

Max then took another small piece of rope and tied it snuggly around the tree and Ray's neck. He placed the rope right under Ray's jaw line. He then shoved the rope up the backside of the tree increasing the tension on Ray's throat, and successfully shutting off just a little more of the air that he so badly needed.

Ray struggled to remain conscious. He fought to control the panic that surged through him. The sudden terrifying pain and the paralyzing fear of suffocation filled his brain. Where was Fraser? He wanted to call out for his friend but he couldn't get his breath. Ray longed to hear the voice of his friend calling him back up from the darkness. The darkness that was so very close to washing over him. He had to fight this. He had to focus. Fraser was going to come for him. He said he would come back for him and Mounties never lie. He had to stay awake...Fraser would be here.

Suddenly Brandauer's face was before him. 

Laughing. 

Brandauer was laughing in his face. In that moment it was the best thing that could have happened. Ray's fear dissolved into anger. His mind latched onto that anger, forcing all other emotions out of the way. The terrifying fear was replaced with a rage that began to clear his mind of all things but the need to survive. The need to win out over this evil that stood before him.

Ray ignored Brandauer's taunts. He forced his mind to remove itself from all things but regaining control of his breathing. He willed his twitching muscles to release and relax. Ray concentrated on balancing his body in the most comfortable position. A position that would allow in as much air as possible with the least amount of pain. He could do this, he could hold on until Fraser came back for him. 

From his vantage point in the woods, Fraser had watched as the three men brought Ray from the cabin. He watched helplessly as they strung Ray to the tree. He heard his cry of pain, but could do nothing. It tore at his soul. Fraser bit back the desire to go to his partner's aid. It would be a useless effort. Right now they had the advantage. He felt the sting of his tears as he watched his friend struggle. He had been with Ray enough in bad situations to recognize the signs of his panic. Fraser screwed his tear brimmed eyes shut and prayed. Relax Ray...relax and breathe....you can do this Ray.

Fraser tensed as he watched Brandauer approach his friend. He drew Ray's gun from its holster and took careful aim, fully prepared to shoot if Brandauer made the wrong move. He eased his tense muscles only when he saw the big man give one more hearty laugh and move away.

Returning his attention to Ray, Fraser couldn't help but smile. The panic was gone. Stanley Raymond Kowalski was a survivor. The fear had been replaced with fierce determination. Fraser had watched life throw his partner curve balls one after the other, but over and over again he had watched Ray knuckle down and take it. Life could throw it's worst, but Ray would always pick himself up and walk away, a survivor.

Just before 9:00 Welsh pulled the GTO into the lane. As he slowly drove towards the cabin he took out his cell-phone and punched in the speed dial number that he had programmed in before leaving the motel. The Michigan State Police would soon be on their way. Harding filled in what details they would need and instructed that they approach with silence. No sirens. Welsh was relieved that this whole thing would soon be over. One way or the other. He was going to do his best to get them all out of this alive, but he knew the chances. He didn't want Brandauer to get away with this. The man was going to pay for what he had done to Ray, and to him.

 

Fraser had been forced to watch helplessly as Ray fought to survive. He had watched the perspiration gather on Ray's thin body, only to be dried by the cool night air. He had watched the trembling begin. Several times Ray had sagged into the ropes as if giving up, only to gather his strength, and again force himself up on his toes so he could continue to breath. 

Fraser thought back to what Ray had said to Joe in the cabin. Ray had questioned if he had the same stuff in him that the Mountie had. Fraser was suddenly ashamed. He had felt awash with pride when he had heard Ray say that. Now suddenly he felt his own courage and determination were terribly lacking in the face of what he was watching from his partner. 

Just before Welsh was due to arrive Joe had moved through the cabin shutting off all the lights but the one in the front room. The three men gathered on the porch for a moment then parted. Brandauer found a seat while Joe stepped in and turned the porch light off as well. The tree to which Ray was tied was plunged into darkness. A flash of hope jumped into the Mounties thoughts. Maybe in the darkness he could get to Ray. It was in that moment that Fraser lost track of Max.

There was one light on in the cabin. Welsh pulled the GTO to a stop beside Brandauer's vehicle. As he exited his car a large man approached him. 

"Follow me." Joe then led Welsh up onto the porch.

Brandauer was setting in a chair at the end of the porch. He watched Welsh approach without rising. Even in the half- light from the cabin window it was obvious that the Brandauer was at the height of his glory.

"I won't even ask for your weapon Harding my friend." Welsh longed to slap the smirk from the big man's face. "It is really quite useless you know. You pull your gun, and your friend is dead. Even if you get me, your friend is dead. My life is basically over anyway. I would rather go out right here knowing the price you have paid for what you did to my brother, then to die slowly. Bad heart. Remember Harding."

Welsh remained silent. He just prayed that Fraser was close.

"Now Harding. Shall we begin?" Brandauer slowly stood. "My brother was the best friend that I had in this life. You were the cause of his suffering. I had to watch my brother suffer. That was the price that I had to pay for caring. I think it is only fair that you see just how expensive caring can be. Vecchio is your friend. I want you to see the price that he has paid for that friendship."

Brandauer stepped to the edge of the porch and gave a signal. Max had been waiting, unnoticed, beside the rental car. He leaned in and turned on the headlights.

Welsh's heart stopped. It was Ray.

Ray had spent almost an hour struggling to get enough air into his screaming lungs to fight off the blackness that waited patiently to overtake him. The perspiration that the struggle had caused had chilled his body to the bone in the cool night air. He was trembling uncontrollably. The angry bruises that covered his now heaving chest could be clearly seen in the harsh car lights. His eyes were glazed with pain and he seemed nearly oblivious to everything but the fight for that next breath. Somewhere deep inside though he knew. He knew that Welsh was there. He knew that his friend had come.

Welsh's fists were clinched so tightly that they hurt. He involuntarily took a step toward the edge of the porch and spoke Ray's name. Brandauer smiled. He could read the obvious horror in the other man's face and he relished it. This is what he had wanted. He wanted this man to suffer.

"How does it feel Harding? I figured you had earned the right to know." Brandauer turned to watch Ray. "But there is more to this you know. My brother 'died' in prison...and there was nothing I could do...I couldn't even be there for him. Right now Harding you're in a very similar position....Wouldn't you say? .A 22 caliber short doesn't do much damage to a man if carefully placed. I wonder just how many your man can takes before he dies?"

Fraser was still trying desperately to locate the third man when he heard the distinctive sound of Ray's GTO. Welsh. The Mountie's attention was now divided between his search for Max and what was going on up on the porch. 

It wasn't until Max snapped on the headlights that Fraser knew his location. He silently started moving towards him. He wanted to be near enough to take him out if anything started. As the Mountie approached the big man, he noticed that he seemed slumped over slightly as if ...sighting a rifle. 

The flat crack of a 22 Caliber short echoed through the cool Michigan night. Ray let out a strangled cry as the small caliber slug tore into his right thigh. The leg buckled as much as the rope would allow putting a sharp pull on his already tortured left side. He screamed again.

Welsh was looking right into Ray's face when he heard the report of the rifle. He saw the slug strike Ray in the thigh. He heard his friend's anguished cry. After two days of barely controlled restraint the big man had taken as much as he could stand. Harding slammed his forearm into Brandauer's face with all of the strength that he had. Brandauer fell backwards off the porch. Welsh was right behind him. He grabbed Brandauer by the collar of his jacket and pulled him up to meet his descending fist. Welsh relished the feel of the man's nose breaking under the force of the punch. He punched him again and again. Each punch sent with the words; 'that's for Ray,' 'that's for Ray.' It was only the feel of cold steel behind his ear that made him stop. 

"Hold it right there." Joe carefully took Welsh by the shoulder and turned him around to stare into the barrel of his colt 380. "The fat-ass had that comin', but now it's over."

Suddenly Joe's face went pale. Max was coming around the front of the car. His hands were laced together behind his head. Walking behind, a gun jammed into Max's side was Constable Benton Fraser.

"Nice of you to join us Fraser." Welsh felt the first flush of victory.

Joe looked helplessly at his brother as Fraser brought him nearer.

"Sir. If you would please drop you weapon. I think we could end this affair." Fraser spoke calmly, his eyes carefully studying Joe's worried face.

"So. Your Fraser..huh?" Joe was closely checking out this man who meant so much to Ray. 

"Do what he says Joe...please." Max looked pleadingly at his brother. "Brandauer ain't worth this..drop the gun Joe."

Fraser stepped Max just a little closer. "If you would come over here Joe, and lay the gun down...carefully."

Joe slowly walked past the unconscious Brandauer towards the front of the car. He cautiously placed his gun on the ground in front of Fraser.

Welsh quickly walked to Fraser's side pulling two sets of handcuffs from his jacket pocket. Fraser covered Max with his weapon as Welsh secured the man's hands behind his back, and leaned him over the hood of the car. " Stay put and you won't get hurt."

Fraser studied Joe carefully. "Thank you for helping my partner. Would you be willing to help the Lt. get Ray down...please?" The amazement in Joe's expression was mirrored in Welsh's

Fraser produced Ray's knife from his belt and handing it to Welsh nodded towards Ray. "Sir. I'm sure that Joe would be glad to help." 

The two men eyed each other suspiciously. A small groan from Ray finally sent the big men into action; both propelled by concern for 'their' friend. Joe gently supported Ray's weight while Welsh cut the ropes. As Ray's cuffed hands were released he weakly slipped them over Joe's head leaning heavily into the bigger man. Joe carefully scooped Ray's legs out from under him, cautiously cradling the injured man in his arms.

"Hey there pit-bull? You still with us?" Joe looked down into Ray's pale face, watching as his pain filled eyes struggled to focus. 

Ray's breathing had been reduced to shallow raspy gasps. A weak smile tugged at his mouth as he recognized who was holding him.

"Jailer Joe?..... "

"Ya little buddy..."

At that instant Fraser yelled. 

After placing Max in the back seat of the GTO Fraser had turned his attention to Brandauer. The big man's face was a bloodied mess. Fraser helped the seemingly stunned man to his feet and shoved him towards the front of the car. As Fraser was removing the second set of cuffs from his pocket he felt the big man lunge towards the three men at the tree. He watched in horror as Brandauer raised a gun to firing position. He had time only to yell a warning

Brandauer pointed his gun at Ray and fired, still intent on the completion of his plan.

"No!" As Joe spoke he spun, shielding Ray with his body.

The bullet hit Joe high in the back tearing into his heart and lung. The dying man's eyes locked with those of Harding Welsh. A tiny smile flickered across his face as he feebly tried to hand Ray over to the older man. Welsh quickly stepped towards Joe and slipped his arms under Ray's body. As Joe fell, Welsh was able to slip Ray's cuffed hands from around the falling man's neck, before his weight would have pulled Ray out of his arms. 

Ray looked into the face of his boss. His eyes filled with confusion and concern. Ray had seen the stricken expression on Joe's face as the bullet did its damage. Ray strained to see his fallen friend. He struggled against Welsh's gentle hold.

"Joe?...oh no...no...sweet Jesus...no... Joe ?..." Ray weakened as the futile effort caused only more pain. "No...no..no..." His voice was barely a whisper as Welsh gathered Ray gently against his chest.

 

 

It was a slow road home for Stanley Raymond Kowalski. Ray spent a week in a hospital in Grand Rapids Michigan. They very nearly lost him, but Ray was a survivor. They had to re-break his nose in order to set it properly. They did chest surgery to remove a rib and repair what damage they could. Ray spent three days under heavy sedation and on a respirator to aid his severely bruised lung. In comparison to the other injuries the gunshot wound was minor.

Ray's mom and dad drove their motor home to Grand Rapids and set up what amounted to headquarters for the Chicago contingent. Ray would have been surprised at the number of his co-workers who drove all the way to Michigan to check on him. They came knowing that Ray was so far out of it, that he probably wouldn't even remember them being there.

Benton Fraser and Harding Welsh remained in Michigan until Ray could be transferred to a Chicago hospital. The two men spent their time divided between the hospital and the local headquarters of the Michigan State Police. 

Brandauer and Max Stahley would spend the rest of their lives in jail. Unfortunately Max would have a lot more life to spend behind bars then would Ex-States Attorney Brandauer. Welsh had the small satisfaction of the memory of his fist smashing the man's nose. He had wanted to do so much more.

Ray had to spend almost another full week in the Chicago hospital. Towards the end of his stay he developed what turned into a rather persistent case of pneumonia. Although he had been released from the hospital over two week ago he still carried a low-grade fever and a very large bag of assorted antibiotics. The doctors assured his parents that home would be the best place to shake the nagging illness.

Welsh and some of the others from the unit visited often. Fraser spent as much time as his job would allow with his friend. Fraser was the one who noticed the subtle changes that the experience had on his partner. No man could go through what Ray had, and not be affected. To most people he seemed like the same old Ray, but Fraser saw the sadness that would sometimes settle over his friend, and then pass. Fraser suspected that it had to do with Joe, but Ray never talked about him, and Fraser didn't want to press. When Ray was better he would talk to him about it, but not now. 

Ray loved his parents, but he was starting to go stir -crazy. He was a little ashamed of how glad he was when they decided to drive to southern Illinois to visit Ray's aunt for the weekend. He couldn't drive yet, and he really didn't feel too good all the time, but it was a small taste of freedom and he wanted to enjoy it. Ray still suffered from muscle spasms on his ribcage. They sometimes made it very hard to breathe. The only thing that got Ray's mom out of the house was Fraser's promise that he would stay with Ray until she returned. Ray could deal with that. 

It was Sunday. The Cubs were playing the Reds at Cincinnati, and Welsh had brought the pizza. Granted it wasn't a home opener at Wrigley, but it would do in a pinch.

The three friends sat in the livingroom totally enjoying each other's company. The shared experiences of the last month had drawn the three even closer together. Well, four counting the wolf, who had even convinced Welsh that he deserved to share his pizza. Ray had even worked up the courage to talk to Welsh about how much the big man's friendship had meant to him over this last year. Welsh had gotten a little embarrassed and made some off-handed joke, but there were tears in his eyes when he thanked Ray with an almost painful bear hug. 

It was sometime in the fifth inning that Welsh noticed Ray give a slight shiver.

"You chilly Ray" Welsh was studying the younger man closely.

"Na. I'm good" As Ray noticed the mean look from his boss he changed his tune. "Well..Maybe a little."

As if on cue both Welsh and Fraser jumped to their feet. One to get Ray a blanket, the other a cup of hot tea.

"Jeeze! What's the matter with you two?" Ray couldn't help but laugh. "I ain't some China doll or somethin'. The two of you are really pathetic....do you think Dief would fetch my slippers?" 

Fraser and Welsh both froze in their tracks. The three friends laughed. When the moment passed Fraser went after Ray's tea and Welsh went after a blanket.

Fraser had put the tea water on to boil and returned to the living room just as Welsh came in with a big quilt. Welsh was just about to make some smart remark when he stopped. He looked back at Fraser, a warm smile on his face, and nodded towards the scene before them. 

Ray had thrown a few pillows on the floor by Diefenbaker, curled himself around the wolf and was sound asleep. Fraser stepped up to Welsh's side and smiled as well.

"We got the little bean-head back Constable." Welsh gave the Mountie a nudge with his elbow as he spoke.

"That we did Sir. Ray is fortunate to have you, not only as a boss, but as a friend." Fraser stared at the sleeping form of his friend, a rather wistful smile on his face.

Fraser's expression was not lost on the big man.

"I want you to know something Ben." Welsh was surprised by the look he received from the Mountie at the use of his first name. "I may not be your official boss, but I am your friend. If things would have been turned around and it would have been you in that mess...I'd have done the same thing. You understand what I'm sayin' here Constable?"

"Yes Sir." Fraser returned Welsh's steady gaze.

"I..Ya know?.. I just....." Welsh suddenly seemed a little embarrassed, but he maintained eye contact with the young man before him. "...well...I guess a man can't have too many sons....even if they're as screwy as the two a you."


End file.
